28April
I arrived at The Ivory Grand, the most upscale restaurant in Manchester, a reservation Id made weeks ago. I kept glancing at my watch; Emily was already ten minutes late, and that always throws me off. Punctuality is one of the few traits I truly value in people.
I sighed, leafing through the menu once more, though I already knew what I would order. Fatigue from a long day and a lingering conversation with my father left my thoughts tangled. Just as I was about to call Emily, the restaurant door swung open.
Love, Im so sorry Im late! she swooped to the table, a whirlwind in a lightblue dress that highlighted her slender figure.
She bent down and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. The scent of spring flowers clung to her, and a familiar warmth washed away any irritation Id been feeling.
You know how I hate waiting, I tried to keep my tone stern, but a smile tugged at my lips. How could I stay angry with her?
Meanwhile, I adore when a handsome man like you waits for me, Emily teased, her eyes dancing. I got stuck at a traffic light, then an elderly lady crossed the road at a snails pacenearly drove me mad!
I laughed. I bet you spent half an hour on your makeup.
Are you kidding? she pretended to be offended. Only twentyfive minutes!
I couldnt take my eyes off her. Chestnut hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, blue eyes sparkled, and the dimples on her cheeks made her smile utterly charming.
Every time I looked at her I felt a surge of disbelief at how lucky I was. Two years ago we met, a year and a half weve been together, a year since we got engaged. And now
To the occasion? I raised my glass of champagne.
To us, Emily replied, a flicker of something deeper crossing her gaze, turning my world upside down.
We placed our orders and drifted into easy conversation about the days events. Emily animatedly recounted a funny incident with a little patient at the clinic, how the head doctor had once called her his golden nurse.
Hows work on the project with Dad? she asked, taking a bite of salmon.
Going alright, I shrugged. Everythings on schedule, but the deadlines are, as usual, breathing down my neck.
She nodded, then, almost offhand, asked, Speaking of deadlines when are we finally setting a wedding date?
My stomach sank. Here we go again.
Emily, we said wed decide once the project with my father is wrapped up
Yes, yes, I remember, she waved impatiently. But thats been six months! Im tired of waiting. Weve been engaged a year now. What are you dragging your feet for?
Im not dragging, I said. Its just not the right moment.
And when will that right moment be? When Im fifty? I want to be your wife, not just a fiancée.
I have so much work I cant even think straight
Come on, its not like a wedding requires you to be a superhero. Just show up at the appointed time and place.
Its not that, I snapped, feeling my temper rise. I want everything to be perfect.
So do I! And you know what would be perfect? A destination wedding on an island. Weve talked about itMaldives, Bali, the Seychellespick any! Everythings taken care of, we just have to be there.
Again with the island wedding! I retorted. Do you crave glamour, or do you just want everyone to be green with envy?
Emily pushed her plate away. You think Im after the money? That all I want is a lavish ceremony?
Isnt that true? I blurted before I could stop myself. All this talk about weddings, travel, places youd like to see I never hear you say you just want to be with me.
Youre impossible! she cried, tears brimming. I just want to be your wife, not a friend or a fiancée!
Stop making excuses! If you dont want to marry me, just say it!
Im not making excuses! I raised my voice, drawing a few curious glances. Why are you always pressuring me?
Because I love you, you fool! You just dont get it!
I stood abruptly and slammed a handful of crisp £100 notes onto the table.
You know what? Im not discussing this here. I wont embarrass myself in front of strangers. Call me when youve cooled down.
I stormed out, ignoring the bewildered waiter and the soft sobs behind me.
***
The night air was cold as I sped through the streets in my new BMW, the engine humming beneath a volumecranked soundtrack that could not drown out my thoughts. Why had everything with Emily become so tangled? I tried to recall the first time we met.
It was at my fathers cardiology clinic, where Id gone to pick up some paperwork. Dr. Stephen Hardingone of the countrys leading cardiologists and the proprietor of a chain of private medical centresalways insisted that business stay separate from family.
Business belongs in the family, he would say.
As the only son and heir, Id grown up under a spotlight of expectationschool, university, workall demanding more from me than most peers.
By twentyfive I was weary of women who saw me merely as a wallet and a status symboltall models, ambitious businesswomen, social butterfliesall wearing the same mask of calculation behind polite smiles.
Then Emily appeared, standing at the reception desk filling out paperwork. She wore a plain white nurses uniform, her hair tied in a neat bun, nothing superfluous. When she looked up and smiled at me, something shifted inside. There was no hint of pretensejust genuine warmth and a light that seemed uniquely hers.
I found an excuse to talk, invited her for coffee, then dinner. She turned out to be unlike any woman Id known. Raised in an ordinary family, shed been working parttime since sixteen to pay her tuition. I was drawn to her untouched sincerity, her quick humour, and the fact that she never tried to be anyone else. She was a breath of fresh air in my world of polished façades.
My mother, Helen Harding, embraced her immediately.
Shes a good one, son. Hold onto her tightly, Helen said after our first meeting, and from that day she called Emily my daughter, even while my relationship was still new.
My father never spoke ill of her. In fact, he praised her professionalism.
But whenever I brought up serious plans with Emily, a strange look would pass over my fathers face.
Shes a nice girl, James, but not for you, he once remarked, a comment that lodged in my mind and sowed doubt.
Maybe he saw something I missed. Maybe Emily, like everyone else, was hiding something beneath that unblemished exterior.
Those thoughts resurfaced today as she pressed again for a wedding. The grandeur she imagined reminded me of past girlfriends who wanted opulent celebrations, expensive gifts, the prestige of being the wife of a wealthy heir.
Damned if! I muttered when the traffic lights turned red.
I love Emily, undeniably. Yet today her words cut deeper than ever, and for the first time I seriously considered ending things. No matter how much my heart aches for her, I wont let anyoneher, me, or anyone elseuse me or my resources.
***
I trudged back home around midnight, slipped off my shoes in the hall, and entered the living room. To my surprise, my father was there, a glass of whisky in hand, staring blankly at the TV.
Whats keeping you up? I asked, dropping into the armchair opposite him.
He looked at me, eyes weary. Your mother called Emily, wanted to invite you both over the weekend. She was crying what happened?
Nothing major. Just a little argument.
About what?
Dad, can we talk later? Im exhausted, my head feels like its splitting.
He didnt answer, just poured another measure of whisky and slid it across to me.
Drink. Itll help.
I took a grateful sip; the warmth thinned the edge of my nerves.
James, when I met your mother, my own parents disapproved, Stephen said suddenly. They thought a provincial nurse wasnt a match for a promising cardiologist from a distinguished family.
Did they?
They thought I was out of my league. I ignored them. Thats the best decision I ever made.
Silence settled. He finally asked, Did you fight with Emily over the wedding?
I exhaled, leaning back. She keeps nagging about the date. Why cant we set it? And that island wedding fantasy as if she just wants a spectacular party and the title of my wife.
Are you sure thats why?
No, I admitted. Sometimes I feel I dont know. You always seem oddly tense when I bring up the wedding, as if youre hiding something.
My father stared at me, weighing his words, then rose. Stay here. Ill be back in a minute.
He disappeared into his study, leaving me to stare at the empty glass.
When he returned, he placed a small black USB drive on the coffee table.
This is the truth about your bride.
I stared at the tiny device, baffled. What is this, Dad? What truth? Have you been spying on her?
No, he shook his head. Just look. And Im sorry I didnt tell you earlier.
My heart hammered as I plugged the drive into the laptop on the side table. Inside was a folder filled with medical records stamped with my fathers clinicepicrises, ECGs, lab results.
What the? I muttered, scrolling until I found the key diagnosis.
Congenital heart defect. Complex form. Progressive deterioration. Surgery required.
My Emily? I looked up, eyes wide.
Stephen nodded. Shes been my patient for over five years, which is why she took the job at the clinicto stay under observation.
Why didnt she tell me? Why didnt you?
Confidentiality. She asked me not to. She wanted to handle it herself.
Handle it herself? A cold shiver ran down my spine. The report says her condition is worsening. Surgery only delays the inevitable.
I couldnt finish the sentence. A lump formed in my throat.
Yes, my father said quietly. Her prognosis is poor. Were doing everything possible, but even with surgery, the best case is a few more years, maybe less.
How long do you think she has left?
If we dont operate within six months, she might have about a year at most. Even with an operation there are no guarantees. Its a delicate procedure, and Id give her at most five more years in the best scenario.
The words hit like a wall. Her urgency about the wedding, the desire to travel, the fear of waitingshe simply wanted to live while she still could.
Youve known all this? I asked, voice breaking. Every time I talked about us, you knew she
I knew, Stephen replied. I couldnt tell you. She begged me to keep it secret, fearing Id stay out of pity.
Out of pity? I rose, anger and grief mixing. I love her, damn it! And she doesnt trust me!
She wanted to protect you.
From what? From love? From being with her while theres still time?
I grabbed the car keys and bolted for the door.
Where are you going? my father called.
To her, I shouted over my shoulder. Dont bother waiting for us for Sunday dinner. Well be busy planning the wedding.
***
I drove like a madman, ignoring every rule. The mantra in my head was simply, Just get there in time. I pulled up outside her flat, lights spilling from the windows. I leapt out, not even bothering to shut the door, and rushed to the buzzer, slamming it far harder than necessary.
Who is it? a hoarse voice answered, clearly from someone who was already crying.
Its me. Open up.
The door swung open almost instantly. Emily stood there in an oversized Tshirt, eyes swollen with tears, yet still breathtaking.
James? she began, but I cut her off, pulling her into a fierce embrace as if I could lock her in place forever.
Why didnt you tell me? I whispered, pulling back just enough to look at her face. About your heart.
He had no right
He did. As a father, he had the right to keep me from losing the most precious thing in my life over a misunderstanding.
I didnt want to be a burden. You already do so much for me.
Look at me, I lifted her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. I love you. Not your health, not your body*you*. Nothing can change that. Neither illness nor anything else.
She sobbed, Ill die, James. Maybe in a year, maybe after surgery. Ill die before you. I cant ask you to bind your life to
Dont ask for anything, I said. Im asking you. Marry me nownext week, on that damned island if you want. Ill find the best doctors, well fight together.
She smiled weakly. If it werent for your father, I wouldnt be here. Some things cant be changed, James. This is my fate.
This is *our* fate, I corrected. I wont give up. Well go to Germany, Israel, the Statesanywhere that can help.
What if theres nothing? she asked, searching my face for an answer.
Then well live the time we have, without regrets. Together, as husband and wife.
She closed her eyes, tears streaming, a faint smile playing on her lips.
So thats why I wanted an island wedding, she whispered. I grew up dreaming of the endless sea. They say it makes you feel eternal
Youll see it, I promised. Every sea in the world. But first, will you marry me? Not out of pity, not out of fear, but because you love me?
She opened her eyes, that same radiant smile blossoming. Yes. I want to be your wife, no matter how many days or years we have.
I kissed her gently, feeling warmth spread through my chest. Whatever lay ahead, we would face it together.
—
About the operationdid your father say anything? Emily asked suddenly.
Its needed within six months. Ill sort it tomorrow, find the best clinic, the best surgeons
And itll cost a fortune.
Money means nothing! I shouted, then took a deep breath. Sorry. Please dont think Im being selfish. Everything I have is yours, no strings attached.
She nodded, tears again filling her eyes, but she managed a smile.
Ive always tried to be independent. After my parents died I learned to survive on my own. It feels strange now to rely on someone else.
Youll get used to it. Im not going anywhere. My mother loves you, too.
And your father, Emily added. Hes done a lot for me, even if he can be terrifying.
—
We talked until dawn about her diagnosis, the wedding, and whatever the future might hold. Emily fell asleep on my shoulder as the first light filtered into the room. I lifted her gently and carried her to the bed.
Just a moment, I whispered, stepping out, closing the door behind me, and dialing my father.
Dad, its me, I said when he answered. Thanks for everything.
Did you talk to her? his voice was tense.
Yes. Were getting married next week.
There was a long sigh on the other end. James, are you sure? Its not just the illness
I know what it is, Dad. Ive never been so sure of anything. I love herher stubbornness, her crazy islandwedding ideas, her sick heart.
Then congratulations. Im proud of you. And Ill help with the treatment. Money wont be an issue.
Ive already got a list of clinics and specialists, he replied. Ill come over this afternoon and well go through it.
After hanging up, I returned to the bedroom and settled on the edge of the bed. Emily slept peacefully, her breathing even. I took her hand.
Something felt off. A faint unease grew as I watched her stillness.
Emily? I pressed her fingers gently.
Silence. No movement. A faint smile lingered on her lips, as if she were dreaming of something bright.
Emily! I shook her shoulders, trying to rouse her.
Nothing.
My fingers trembled as I searched for a pulse on her neck. Nothing. The cold of her hand made me realize the horrible truth.
No, no, no I whispered, fumbling for my phone. Please, not this
An ambulance, summoned with shaking hands, arrived twelve minutes later. The doctor confirmed what I already knew: Emily hadShe lay there, forever peaceful, the sea of her dreams finally reflected in the silent, starlit sky beyond the window.
